Transforming frustration...(and pictures, in no particular order ;) )

Bathing in the Ganges

Rishikesh

View from our room

Crazy in the train station after a loong journey

Manali

Puja at the Dalai Lama's temple, a day of world prayer

Dalai Lama's birthday bash

Ellie or Dalai? hmm...

Rudy and the holy Ganga

Combine:
1 yoga class
2 amazing women
1 four hour long breakfast/lunch
3 games of shithead (card game, simmer down) with 1 new friend
2 amazing books (try Dwellings by Linda Hogan and Like Water for Chocolate by Laura something...)
Sprinkle with loads and loads of laughing.

As I believe I mentioned in the previous post, it's been a little hectic here in Rishikesh...a place we came to because we heard it is the exact opposite--calm, peaceful, etc. Walking out on the street is nearly impossible, and if I do I am bombarded by hundreds of men yelling things at me, taking pictures of me, trying to impress eachother by playing a game of "who can be the most forward to the white chick on her own." It feels like a football game to the extreme 24/7. I figured out that if I attach myself to an Indian woman and hide behind her as I walk, no one bothers me too much. I don't like feeling frustrated, but then again I can't be too hard on myself and I can't imagine not being.

At the same time, it's not really okay for me to want them not to be here. It's not my country, not my tradition, not my Shiva's month celebration. So this morning as we tried to cross the bridge but physically could not because of all the people, I decided that the best thing to do is find out as much information about what is happening here and try and understand.

We are going to try and leave here on Sunday, but things are never as one plans/expects. Trying to get here was almost impossible, leaving should be quite interesting. We'll attempt to make it onto a train to Delhi, and then to Varanasi for the eclipse. After that will be a totally different experience, my study abroad program in Bangalore! We will be learning about social justice activism. I have a feeling it will be a bit less intense to live there, and I am excited to meet my groupmates and have a lot of time/space to learn about things I am most passionate about. I am grateful to have been able to come out early, see a lot of northern India, and have time to reflect, read, and get acquainted with lovely India.

Damp shoes, damp hearts

Last night we began our journey from Manali to Rishikesh...we made the mistake of taking someone's advice about an "easy" way to get there, and ended up taking one very long bus that shook the life out of me and bruised my knees. Then we hopped on a train, well I suppose pushed and shoved is a better word. Then we ended up in a train station in Ambala (sp?) with soooo many people all wearing orange that liked to circle us wherever we went. After asking about 10 people which platform the train would be we took the average of the anwers and figured it would be at platform 2. We waited and the crowd grew. As the train came closer people started to stir, push, yell, clap. The train pulled up and the blood bath began! It was already packed full, people hanging out the windows and doors and still hundreds more trying to get in! It was incredible, there was no way would be able to get on...so we said to hell with this we will try and get a taxi. That is always quite interesting, we had a circle of men following us around until we finally found a guy with a car to take us to Rishikesh! Now, apparently this month is Shiva's month and there is a massive pilgrimmage/celebration? happening here in Haridwar and Rishikesh. This meant the roads were blocked and people were everywhere. Somehow the driver paid off the police and we got a little bit closer to where we wanted to be. We paid our driver and began the trek to find a place to sleep. Because of the massive spiritual gathering, there were men in orange (Shiva's color, I think) walking in packs shouting and laughing at us and yelling things...and THEN it started to rain. It rained so hard. All we could do was laugh and laugh with our lack of sleep, hunger, and exhaustion. It was then that we realized we had walked a long way in the wrong direction. So we turned around, everyone still laughing at the soaking white women, and made our way to the Ganges. We cross the holy river as the storm started to pick up--the footbridge began to shake! From there it was another 5k of helplessly wandering until we made it to some guesthouse. Everything I own is wet, except for my passport (which I cleverly put in a ziploc for exactly such times). There isn't enough room at the guesthouse for the 3 of us all to have a bed, so you know what that means?? PILLOWFIGHT!!!

On a completely different note, I've been thinking a lot about gender, especially during 14 hour sleepless bus rides. Being a man or woman (or being perceived as one in a gender binary) is, of course, a very different experience wherever one is in the world. It is definitely interesting being a white woman in India.
It blows my mind that is so universally accepted that women are less safe than men. We can't go out late at night, can't walk alone, can't trust many men. My head spins, what is the root of all of this? WHY is there so much gender-based violence? Why should I be afraid of rape as woman but almost never as a man? Why is there this notion that my body is something another person is entitled to? Can we not see that this is such an obvious manifestation of really serious and deep inequality? I am trying really hard not to perpetuate or participate in stereotypes about men but I honestly feel I am respected very little. Perhaps this is because I am an American woman and there are many ideas about us. Of course I don't have the answers. I try and find a reason for the way things are, but the deeper I dig the more empty my hands become.

Well, today was a really rough day, but we had a nice dinner and I know I will sleep very well. I am really grateful to be sharing this experience with two lovely women who I can laugh a lot with. Laughing is very important.

Humbly,
Laura

p.s. being with no Americans, my accent is starting to sound reeaally weird....perhaps I'll come back with a Polish/English/American fusion, hmmm

p.p.s. pictures tomorrow? perhaps, if the gods of technology allow ;)

Good morning Manali!

Got to Manali around 4:30 this morning, I was pretty sure that we wouldn't find any place open but we met a very nice man named Gudu who drove us out of the city and to the loveliest of guesthouses in Old Manali. It was still dark so we couldn't really see where we were going but he made us some chai and we watched the sunrise from the rooftop. We soon found that we were surrounded by apple trees, mountains, and giggling birds. I spent the day wandering around, visiting some temples, having some clothes made for me:) I really wanted to go walking through the hills today--Gudu said it's totally safe, "No problem at all", but I had a feeling he thinks it's no problem because he is a man. I ended up talking to a couple different women and the consensus was that it's not the best idea to go alone. Tomorrow we will trek!

I think I just uploaded some photos, they might be somewhere on this blog...hmm.

MUAH,
lala

An urgent message home :)

Hello lovely friends and family. I am still here in McLeod Ganj (Upper Dharamsala) and will be leaving for Manali this evening. I have had a really lovely, relaxing, and mind-blowing first week in India. There was an insane hail storm today which trapped us in our favorite restaurant, forced to have a traditional Tibetan massage, eat cake, and play cards...it was really rough.

I sometimes don't even know where to begin explaining all the wonderful things I am learning. The most profound thing so far is learning about the situation in Tibet. As you may know, the Chinese invaded Tibet in 1949, and in 1959 the Dalai Lama fled to Dharamsala. Since then, many Tibetans have taken refuge in India seeking safety and freedom. I have been volunteering with an organization that provides many resources for Tibetan refugees, one of the most important being English classes. I am always hesitant volunteering somewhere only for short periods of time, as oftentimes one becomes much more of a burden than a help, and just leaves with a few photos and a narrow understanding. When we found out that we could volunteer in the English conversation class, it seemed like a wonderful opportunity to meet people, learn, and actually be a bit useful. So that's what we have been doing, and it has been so incredible. All the people I have talked to just want to return home, be with their family, and be free to live as they choose. This has been made impossible by the Chinese invasion and many, many people are suffering. I feel incredibly lucky to meet so many wonderful people. A monk today told me about how much he trusts the American government to ensure human rights and democracy all over the world. I almost began to cry but instead just smiled with so many conflicting emotions inside. I know I have a lot to learn and much more work to do in this world.

I feel like I want to stay longer, do more, but I have decided that the first step I can take is just to talk to everyone I know and pass on the story of so many Tibetans I have spoken with. I promised each person I met that I will carry their message with me wherever I go.
In so much suffering I am deeply inspired by the smiles I continue to see. I was reading the other day, in a book called Fragrant Palm Leaves by Thich Nhat Hanh, about how he saw someone smile so deeply and so lovingly. He said that only someone who has suffered greatly could smile like that. How beautiful, how absolutely unimaginable that there exists joy in a world of such suffering.

Alas, I have uploaded pictures to the computer but this blog refuses to allow them! Well, imagine the most humbly beautiful thing you have seen, smile deeply, and perhaps that might feel something like the pictures.

Besos y abrazos,
Laurita

p.s. there are no accidents or coincidences :)

Well hello there Dolly.....Dalia LAMA!!!

Wow, where to even begin...
So I had a reeally long journey to Delhi, 3 flights and one night in the Bangkok airport. Let me tell you one thing about the airport in Bangkok, there are giant speakers everywhere where obnoxious voices announce things in English that I can't understand, all night long. And fluorescent lights that never dim...and I got locked in a gate with no water or bathroom hahaha. It's a pretty awkward airport, but I cuddled up in my sleeping back and read my book for the night. The next morning I flew into Delhi and thankfully found Ellie with ease! We hopped in a cab and proceeded to try and find the apartment we would be staying at that night, and after about stopping 7 times to ask random people on the street for directions we found it. Allie was already there, so nice to see her smiling face. No time to sleep when Delhi awaits, so we got a ride into the city to check out some markets. I bought some clothes and drooled a lot at all of the beautiful things. It's strange that I didn't really experience any kind of culture shock (or even jet lag). Everything seemed really natural...the interesting array of smells, the cows in the street, the crazy driving, the half-built everything. I felt like I had been there before (maybe that's because I read so much about it hahaha...or perhaps I lived here in a life past). We had a lovely evening and crashed early. The next day we organized our stuff and began planning our next move. Ellie and I decided we wanted to head north right away, all the way up to McLeod Ganj which is just a little north of Dharamsala. Oh and the bus ride!! 14 hours through the night in what felt like a constant wooden rollercoaster. It wasn't bad at all though, and I noticed a kind of intimacy with such kind of travel. Everyone jammed in a bus, being jostled around, hopelessly trying to find some position that allows for sleep. Limbs seemed to be everywhere, people sleeping in the aisles, somehow someones hair would tickle my feet or a sleeping hand would graze my knee, twas a beautiful thing. I didn't sleep a wink but I enjoyed laying there. And another thing that happened...I was seated under the air conditioner, which was apparently broken and periodically shot water out at me. So those of us lucky enough to be under the wretched machine had to take cover--Ellie busted out her rain coat that we hide under for most of the trip.
The sun began to rise just as we caught sight of the Himalayas. They are absolutely breath-taking. I couldn't help but smile (even though I was a little car sick) the whole way there. We arrived where I am now about about 730 this morning. McLeod Ganj is really beautiful. The people are very nice and there are many Tibetan refugees living here now (one of which is the DALAI LAMA...who is in town but not available, so I think I'll send him a text later so we can have some chai together, I think he misses me). Tonight we are all going to a English conversation group with some monks to help them learn the language. Then are going to a yoga class and THEN to a pizza/documentary partay. The films look really good and I am excited. I am so excited that I can't even sleep although I haven't slept in many, many hours. I also think I will do a little trek through the mountains either tomorrow or the next day. It is SO beautiful here!!! Oh and did I mention the Himalayas are a stone's throw away? I can taste them.

Well that's all for now, perhaps I can post photos sometime soon.

All o' my hugs, all o' my kisses,
Laura

Walk for so shall just his and whirled peas

The other day I did my "Walk for Social Justice" to raise money for my trip and to reflect and find that wonderful place of peace within myself.
As you might know I did the Camino de Santiago last summer with my dad, a walking pilgrimage in northern Spain. I found that walking is one of the best ways to experience a place and that it is truly one of the most peaceful things to do. We met so many wonderful people along the way and fell in love with the simple life of the camino. Here is a link to a slideshow my dad made of the trip.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fr-g3hYIMV8

Anyways, I decided it would be a little ridiculous to drive somewhere only to start walking somewhere else. So I just stepped out my front door and took a left. From there I basically walked all over the Sammamish plateau, through the woods, along the road, stopped at the grocery store to make myself a sign that read "Today I'm walking for social justice" that I attached to my backpack (definitely a conversation starter). For the first few hours I found my mind contemplating how I can be better at cultivating loving and peaceful relationships with everyone around me.
But after all the chatter of my mind subsided, I noticed only how every leaf seemed to bow reverently to me and I couldn't help but bow back. I never cease to be amazed by the mystery of existence. And then there it was, the feeling that I touched once again of pure bliss, peace, love, existing everywhere and permeating everything. I couldn't help but smile and know that even with all of the suffering and corruption in the world that there still exists joy. And that is truly a beautiful thing.

All of my love,
Laura

p.s. tonight I begin the dreaded malaria meds, and you know what that means??!?! TWO DAYS TO INDIA!

p.p.s. I printed out directions to the family's house I will be staying with in the first few nights, they look a little something like this, "turn left at old maherauli rd, turn left, turn right, turn left, turn left"...um street names? Hahaha, should be interesting :)

Finding strength in asking for help...and other ramblings :)

WARNING: The following ramblings are in no way required to make very much sense, be cohesive, or be anything but pure, brutal honesty. In addition, I do not claim to be the voice of any experience/perspective other than my own. This may seem obvious but I would like anyone reading this to keep in mind (especially once I begin my travels) that the way I experience India is through the eyes of a white, female, middle class, American, college student (among other things, and whether I want it to or not, this will continue to shape my experiences). I carry with me my own preconceptions and biases, which is not inherently a bad thing, but something I will continually keep in mind and challenge within myself. ANYWAYS :) just wanted to get that off my chest...

So I've been thinking a lot lately about what we conceptualize as strength or weakness in our society. Generally, or stereotypically perhaps, strength might look like being self-sufficient, emotionally sound, physically strong, etc. Weakness looks like just the opposite.
I've come to realize in the past few years, and especially through preparation for this trip, that a lot of strength lies in asking for help. It's been hard for me to ask for help myself when my mind can easily justify why so many other people in the world need more help for than me. But the truth of the matter is everyone needs help on many different levels. For us to admit this can be quite humbling, and allowing others to give support in whatever way they can is beneficial for everyone. I remember from one of my trips to the Dominican Republic, I didn't know what to do with the generosity I was faced with from people that had little material wealth. A dear friend on that trip said, "If everyone was a giver, who would receive?" I personally find the most joy in my life by helping others on their journey, by relieving whatever suffering I can. But if everyone in the world were too proud to be receiving, all the givers would have no one to give to! I would not be able to experience such joy.

So I suppose what I'm trying to say is that I have needed a lot of support with this trip, and when I finally got over my stupid pride and reached out to my lovely family and friends it felt so good. This consisted of monetary support, but most importantly I asked my friends and family to write me a note that I could open in India. At the time I was feeling a little nervous about the trip, and admitting this to myself and to everyone I love was so comforting.
And you know what else??!? I have come to terms with the amount I cry. I can't help but cry when I see someone else in pain, I cry when I am overcome with joy, when I see a smiling baby, when I touch the earth. I used to think this meant I was oversensitive, but I have come to realize that it is rather the way I experience the world is through feeling. I feel the joy and suffering and it is a lot of times overwhelming. So when I cry it feels like my heart is bubbling out with so much feeling for the world. :)

Well I will update soon on the Walk for Social Justice (hopefully with pictures!!) and from India in no time! I leave in SIX DAYS!!! GAAHALECJNL@NDLKSDN!!!!

On a final note, I would like to share with you one of my favorite poems, one that always brings me back to my heart.

Please Call Me by My True Names

Do not say that I'll depart tomorrow
because even today I still arrive.

Look deeply: I arrive in every second
to be a bud on a spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with wings still fragile,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
in order to fear and to hope.
The rhythm of my heart is the birth and
death of all that are alive.

I am the mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river,
and I am the bird which, when spring comes, arrives in time
to eat the mayfly.

I am the frog swimming happily in the clear pond,
and I am also the grass-snake who, approaching in silence,
feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks,
and I am the arms merchant, selling deadly weapons to
Uganda.

I am the twelve-year-old girl, refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean after being raped by a sea
pirate,
and I am the pirate, my heart not yet capable of seeing and
loving.

I am a member of the politburo, with plenty of power in my
hands,
and I am the man who has to pay his "debt of blood" to, my
people,
dying slowly in a forced labor camp.

My joy is like spring, so warm it makes flowers bloom in all
walks of life.
My pain if like a river of tears, so full it fills the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and laughs at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart can be left open,
the door of compassion.

--Thich Nhat Hanh